


haunt my what-ifs

by bleedmagiic



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Dave is still dead, Emotional Hurt, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, M/M, So is Ben, Veteran Klaus Hargreeves, literally it's just klaus missing dave (and ben)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27297664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedmagiic/pseuds/bleedmagiic
Summary: In which Klaus is grieving Dave again, exactly five years after his death.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	haunt my what-ifs

**Author's Note:**

> the title was taken from cardigan by taylor swift.

The emptiness is a permanent resident in his heart. It has been for as long as he can remember, and it's hard to pinpoint when it decided to build its home there. Maybe it's always been a part of him.

Klaus has never been someone who's felt whole. He's always just _existed_ aimlessly, his life always devoid of any true meaning or direction _(save the 10 months that changed everything)._ It's like he lacks some fundamental set of wiring that everyone else seems to have, but he just exists without it.

Some days, it's less noticeable, and Klaus is able to carry on as he always does; floating through his days and wishing his time away, filling the empty spaces in him with things like meaningless sex and drugs.

But sometimes, like tonight, that empty space in his heart that threatens to consume him from the inside out is all he can feel, and his only option is to sit with the feeling until it either fades into something he can manage again or it kills him.

Five years. It's been exactly five years since he watched his lover's life slip away, five years since he was forced to abruptly cast aside every dream he and Dave had talked about under the stars on humid nights, every dream they'll never even get to live out.

He tries to remember what his life felt like before Vietnam, and then he groggily blinks away the realization that it truly feels as if it's an eternity away. His life has never truly felt like it belonged to him, but this is especially true for his life pre-Dave.

_(It was as if the universe had their meeting in its plans for a millennia, but perhaps it was only ever supposed to be something short-lived, because even though some things are meant to be, that doesn't mean they're meant to be forever.)_

His life has always been so monotonous and any happiness he'd been able to feel was purely artificial or so short-lived he hardly had time to revel in it, and then suddenly he'd met the man who showed him that real, true, unconditional love is possible, and colors outside of the black, white and gray he'd always known _do exist._

But just like everything else, it all slipped away, and all he had left were fleeting memories of a soul he'll never feel again tinged in a hollow sadness.

He sits up straight on his living room floor. With a deep breath and shaky hands and a frozen mind he tries, _tries_ to conjure his Dave again, even though he knows it's futile. And it is. He wants to smile, because he knows that this should be a reminder that Dave is in heaven, or some place like it, and doesn't instead spend his time as a lost soul reliving all of life's pain and hardship.

But he doesn't.

He doesn't smile.

As the blue glow around his hands dies, he finds himself shrouded in darkness again, and so he stands with trembling legs and then they carry him mindlessly through his small apartment as if he were a ghost, haunting his own space, wishing there was someone, anyone here with him.

But he hasn't seen anyone in weeks. 

He finds himself walking toward the kitchen, and his bones feel heavy, as if they'll cave in at any moment, and suddenly he imagines the voice of a familiar friend, a brother, in his mind. _"Don't do it, Klaus, it's not worth it."_

And he pauses, he almost doesn't reach for the bottle, he almost doesn't dig into the drawer to take out a spoon, and Klaus finds himself _wishing_ he could argue, he _wishes_ there were someone here to argue with, and he almost _does_ protest, but he catches himself, shaking his head as the ghost of what could have been a laugh escapes his lips. Klaus wishes Ben were still here, and he'd make some bitter and sarcastic remark, or he'd give Klaus that narrow, half-judgmental stare that really only ever masked genuine concern.

Or maybe it'd be Dave, his fingers slowly intertwining with Klaus', reminding him gently that _"Hey, I understand why you feel the need to do this, and I will never be disappointed in you for it, but let's try to think of some alternatives first, yeah?"_

But the deafening silence is a loud and cruel reminder that Ben isn't here, and neither is Dave, and they're both somewhere where pain doesn't exist and hope is never lost and, and, and... and he's not with them.

So Klaus reaches for the gin, because there is nobody here who can stop him, and he doesn't bother to pour himself a glass because he knows that tonight he's going to the bottom of the bottle, and then he grabs a spoon, and a needle and his lighter and a belt, and then he carries himself back into his dark living room, and he sinks to the floor and presses his back against the couch.

He can only hope that wherever Dave is (and wherever Ben is... maybe they're together, and maybe they're looking down on him), he truly is okay, at peace and without pain. 

_(Dave was the only thing Klaus knew like the back of his hand, the only riddle he knew he could solve each time, the one song he'll always hold close even though he'll never hear it again, one whose melody is so dear to his heart and lingers like a spirit, hanging in the air wherever he goes)._

Klaus, on the other hand, will spend the rest of his days carrying the memory of a love not meant to last, suspended in a realm of nonexistence, frozen in a time that never was.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear he deserves better than this, I hope somehow a Klave-endgame is in store. ALSO: this is my first tua fic! it’s very short obviously, just something i needed to get out of my head. i have quite a few more i hope to post as time goes on. some will be longer and have an actual plot, others will be one-shots like this.


End file.
